Everyone Fails, Everyone Falls
by liebedero
Summary: Foreteen fic based on the new and evolving Foreman Thirteen relationship - Short story. Mildly adult themes Depression and death too. Will update soon! I promise!
1. No Sleep

**A Foreteen fic – my first newish develop thiny. Soooooo ik that thirteen is like bi and all but we'll see how this goes – this is a short story, not a series of oneshots like joy to the World X-mas 08 extraordinaire (if you've read it) **

**Nefertiri – Peace Out – Ode to MC no not m.d. MC ! Oh and btw it's mostly from 13's POV**

________________________________________________________________________

One

Her forehead rested in her palm, her eyes flickered to a close; she sighed. 13 was on call, late. Foreman, Taub and Kutner were asleep elsewhere, miscellaneously lying on the couch or sitting in a chair somewhere. It was taking her forever to fall asleep. She could feel her hand shaking, twitching ever so slightly. Huntington's was going to kill her. Only one tear leaked out. Remy had always prided herself on being somewhat emotionally strong, but she didn't want to die. No one in their right mind would _want_ to die. But she acted like she did sometimes. Her downward spiral continued endlessly. As the disease progressed, she had seen her fellows watching her slight, almost unnoticeable twitch, a fraction of a millimeter, just enough for them to almost see it. Some watched with concern, others with pity as the disease rapidly progressed. Foreman still worked with her constantly, but she knew that nothing was going to help her in the long run. She would begin to shake wildly and act uncontrollably and insanely, unable to do much for herself, by herself. With these thoughts her slightly shaking arm, became more prominent. One more tear escaped from somewhere. Damn those tears! With shaking hands she wiped them away. She stifled a yawn under one of those hands, and laid her head down on the table, trying to sleep, trying to forget her disease, the patient, everything. But she was haunted with dreams of her mother, the mother that looked an awful lot like herself, her older self, but still her.

_________________

Remy bolted up, her eyes shot open and her brain became alert.

"You O.K. Thirteen?" a whisper asked her, concerned.

She turned to face the voice of her rescuer from the dreams that haunted her sleep often now days. It was still dark and Remy had to squint to make out Forman's body.

"You were visibly shaking," worry and concern dripped piteously from his voice.

"I…I'm fine, what time is it?"

"Around threeish, patients stillokay, I checked her out,"

Remy nodded groggily, her brain fogging at the mention of the early hour.

"Go back to sleep, sorry I woke you,"

"Mmm, it's okay," she sighed heavily and leaned her head backwards to stare at the ceiling. She squinched her eyes shut tight not wanting any stray tears to loose as she once again thought about her ailment.

"You sure you're alright?" Foreman asked, watching Thirteen shudder.

"The things in life worth doing," she began bitterly, "you can't do before you die. With Huntington's, I'll never have kids, at the end I won't have control of my body, my mind at all, why is it worth living till I die of Huntington's! Everyone will be a one night stand, no one but Cameron is foolish enough to let herself love someone so deeply while they die. It would break most people to pieces. Once someone learns I have Huntington's I'll be over," her voice was still a whisper, but tears were silently pouring down her cheeks now, at the though of never being a mother, which was still a possibility, she wasn't lesbian, she was bi. She shuddered again and leaned forward, fully crying. She had no idea why she was pouring out her heart to Foreman, nor why she felt so weak and out of control as she did just then.

He pulled out a chair next to her, placed a hand on her back as she sobbed.

"I don't want to die," she murmured desperately.

"It'll be okay, you're fine, your not going to die for a while yet, I'll make sure of that, we all will," he rubbed his hand over her back in small circles as her shoulders heaved. With his consolation she threw her arms around his neck, sobbing into his shoulder. Why was she even breaking down like this? He was taken aback, of that she was positive. Remy could tell he felt awkward as he patted her back and let her run down the water works. Eventually she released him, pulling away and whipping the tears out from underneath her eyes, sniffing a little, and resting her head on her hand again.

"I'm sorry, I'm just really tired right now,"

"Don't apologize, it's not your fault, this is a hard thing to go through, no one should have to deal with it. If you ever need anything, or anyone, I'm here for you," Foreman finished shakily.

"Thanks,"

"Get some sleep, you need it,"

"I will,"

________________________________________________________________________

Two years later the cure for Huntington's was being refined, cut down to a perfect art. Remy was deteriorating, quickly. Her disease was rapid, more rapid than was common. She would die, faster than her mother, faster than she had ever considered. She was almost certain that the cure would prove false on her count, she had no hope.

"At least try it Thirteen," Foreman prodded. Though she was no longer a fellow (she, Taub, and Kunter and had 'gotten all the info possible stuffed into their trivial brains' a long time ago) they all still worked together. All the former fellows, the original fellows and now there were new fellows. Cuddy hadn't run, screaming, for the hills begging to be let go for pain of 'House' yet and, miraculously, House hadn't been fired for whatever persistent reason yet. He hadn't scared off Wilson, yet either, they were closer now, than before. The trying their friendship had been given had bonded them. It had been deemed a 'bromance' after all their snide jokes about how being straight was boring. Thirteen had to admit, working at PPTH had _never_ been boring. Ever. Not once. PPTH was home, all the former fellows felt that way. In a way, they were a family, bonded together by one, ever annoying, SOB teacher, an amazing, strong, and kind boss, and other good and caring friends throughout the hospital that had taught them along the slow, pokeish, and sometimes proddish, way. Common experiences had a way of doing that.

Soon, Remy new that she would have to start saying goodbye. Her hands always shook, so much that patients began to ask her if she was feeling alright. Soon her mental status would drop and she would no longer be able to self preserve. She was alone. She hadn't spoken to her father in years, she no longer went for one night stands (though she still maintained her status as bisexual), no romance had erupted in her life. She couldn't bear to have to depend on her co-worker family for help when her last days came. She couldn't imagine the horror of them seeing what she was like, deteriorated and dying. She cared too much for them to let herself burden them.

Yet Foreman and all the others still persisted to help her. They never gave up. Remy knew she needed them. She just couldn't bear to put her weight on their shoulders. It turned out, she didn't have to. They did it for her.

"Try it, I'll make you, Remy, I will make you," over the past years, Foreman, her closest friend through her personal trauma, had begun to call her Remy.

"Fine, I'll do it, but I swear, it won't help me,"

"If you weren't so dismal about it, it might help your mental state. It's a proven fact that thinking about your condition prods it further. If you think you're sick you will get sick. If you think it won't work your body will defend against making itself better. I've seen it hundreds of times,"

"Fine. Give it to me, but not until it's a matter of life and death,"

"Why not, you need-"

"Because I said so, those are my wishes, give me the consent for and I'll sign it,"

"Are you sure?"

"Positive,"

________________________________________________________________________

And a month later, Remy Hadley lay on her deathbed, incoherent in speech, jerking shaking with the effects of her disease, horrified at being taken care of, horrified that her closest friends had to see her this way. She could see but not touch, hear but not communicate. It was as if she were a spectre, watching, wishing someone could see her too.

House was the attending. Today, as he walked in she could see a homemade shirt reading – 'It could be Lupis,' – on the front and the back – 'it's never Lupis,'. If she had been in any condition to laugh, she would have. House walked out after tending her and then Foreman entered, looking relieved.

"Hey," he whispered gently to her, "It's working, you're getting better, you're gonna be fine. You'll have full control over your movements in a couple weeks, but the mental capacities will take a little longer. Remy?" Foreman was staring at her. A light was shining in her eyes. It hurt. Photophobia. Why? Why he staring at her like that. She tried to scream as she felt the searing pain travel up her spine and into her head. It was like being slashed through and through with a blade. Why, why was he doing this to her?

But then she heard his voice.

"Remy, Remy? Remy!" he shouted. Yes he was saving her; the other invisible black hearted demon was the one killing her. Her vision left, she screamed harder.

"Patient is coding!" the shout came, recognized unconsciously in Remy's head. Somehow he had become her eternal source of comfort, no matter what was wrong. And then the pain ended. The sightless red pain, faded to black, and not even Foreman's voice could be heard beyond her sub-consciousness.


	2. Eric

Everything throbbed. Everything hurt. Everything was sore. At least the killer pain that snaked up her back was gone. She still couldn't move, couldn't open her eyes. The black was beginning to clear. Hear head was ringing, but she could hear a voice, talking to her, and around her, and about her.

"I can't believe it,"

"We couldn't have known, she didn't even know,"

"Yeah but she's in a coma,"

"The allergy was uncommon and highly unusual, be glad she's alive and keep holding her hand, maybe she'll wake up. Talk to her, it's proven that they can still here you even when they're in a coma. They wake up saying they could hear a voice telling them that everything was going to be okay. They think they've heard the voice of God when all that was happening was their family and doctors talking to or about them, happens all the time,"

Thirteen didn't hear House's voice again after that. She felt someone take her hand. She felt a finger stroke down her cheek; brush some hair from her eyes. She couldn't make out the words quite, but they were getting clearer. She was trying to distinguish the voice when the words suddenly hit her clear as a bell.

"I know that you may never wake up, but you need someone. I'm here for you. Always. Umm, if you can hear me, listen please. This is kind of awkward. I really don't think you can hear me but, I love you. I really do. I know your, uh, preferred sexuality, but I don't mind, really. Even though you probably won't ever wake up, I'm gonna ask anyway. You have been through a lot, and I've tried to help you through it. I can't believe I'm asking you this, while you're in a coma, but I'm going to. Remy Hadley, I'm asking you to marry me," the voice sighed. But whose was it? Thirteen wanted to say yes to the voice, but she couldn't move her mouth. She concentrated on distinguishing the voice. _Say something that will tell me who you are. _ She knew the voice, but her memory seemed to be damaged somehow. She had spent lots of time with this voice, she could tell. But time doing what.

The voice spoke again. "God, I wish those clinical drug trials had helped,"

The flashback was quick. The voice had been the last one to be with her before she couldn't remember anything. He had been trying to help her. Suddenly the face of the voice took root in her mind forming the name in her head voice. _Eric Foreman. _Suddenly the black haze was lifting again, more now. It was only drifting, just making the imagines that would be around her slightly out of reach. Then one more word popped into her head. _Huntington's Disease. _And the flash of light that followed slowly made the room surrounding her become distinguishable. A dark shape loomed over her, and she felt Something touch her forehead. She blinked twice. Three times. Once more and the black creeping in on her dissipated. She squinted. Photophobia.

"Mmm," she still had no use of her mouth, and so as couldn't speak; it was probably an effect from Huntington's. But even her low murmur got his attention. She blinked a couple more times as he lean over her and cautiously began whispering her name. She formed the word carefully in her head and slowly passed the impulse from her brain to her lips and whispered some what hoarsely one word. "Yes," he didn't here her. She went through the process again and this time made her response audible. "I'll… ma…ma…mar…marry… you," her voice sounded foreign and strange, disjointed and unfamiliar, but he still heard her.

He breathed. "Oh my God. She, she, you heard me,"

Thirteen only murmured. "Mmm," nodding slightly and letting out a slightly pained breath as the sharp pain jutted up to the nape of her neck.

"Okay stay still, I'll up your pain meds,"

"Er…Eric,"

"Remy?"

"All…allergic re…action…reaction?"

"Yeah, to a med we gave you in combination with the Huntington's treatment," he smiled slightly at her. "You're gonna be just fine,"

"Mmhmm,"

"Uh, what size ring are you?"

Her smile widened. She moved her fingers slowly to form the tell tale number. She was going to get married. Her father would…

"Eric?" He had turned but quickly faced her at the utterance of his name.

"Ca…call…my…dad,"

"Okay," he walked over to her and kissed her forehead reassuringly, then left. Remy closed her eyes. She let out a contented sigh. All she wanted to do right then was sleep.

________________________________________________________________________

"Mr. Hadley?" Foreman paused waiting for an answer.

"Yes? who is this?"

"I'm a colleague of your daughter's, Remy. Well actually I'm her fiancé now too. Anyway, she just got out of a coma, and is recovering. Um, she had Huntington's, which we treated her for. She had a bad allergic reaction to some medicine she was given, really rare. She's fine now but Remy asked me to call you. I think she'd like to see you,"

"Is she at PPTH?"

"Yes,"

"I'm coming, um who is this then,"

"Eric, Eric Foreman, I'll meet you in the entrance way at the hospital,"

"Congratulations, I thought my daughter was Bisexual,"

"Uhh, she is but I guess I won her over,"

"Thanks, tell her I'm coming,"

"Will do Mr. Hadley,"

"Jake, please call me Jake,"

"Alright, she'll be just fine Jake, I promise"

________________________________________________________________________

"Hi, how are you feeling?"

It still hurt to talk so she didn't say anything. It hurt to shake her head to so she frowned.

"That bad huh?"

Facial movements were limited too. "Mhm," she muttered not even opening her mouth.

"I'll up the morphine again but then that's it, I'll have reached limit," he did as he had said and though relief came slowly 13 could feel it working.

"Your dad is coming, I'll have to leave, I told him I'd meet him at the entrance and then bring him here," he looked her in the eye. "He loves you ya know,"

Remy nodded, smiling slightly. The pain was mostly gone now, a good thing. That way she might be able to actually talk with her father. Almost dying had a way of changing a person's outlook on life and what was important. That was one of the reasons she had agreed to marry Foreman. She hadn't originally wanted marriage. She hadn't wanted a male partner, originally. She hadn't wanted kids, but now….Things were different, things _had_ changed. Maybe, just maybe, things would be better. Maybe she would actually be happy for the first time in a long time. _Real _sex. Kids. Love. Happiness. Maybe… Remy certainly hoped so.

________________________________________________________________________

Thirteen must have looked a lot like her mother, but the resemblance to her father was there, if you looked closely. His dark hair was three shades darker than his daughter's. They had the same nose. They were tall, confident looking. _What a first meeting, _thought Foreman as he strolled up to the man who would eventually become his father – in – law. Jacob Hadley still looked remarkably young for all the trials his life had had. Only the lines that streaked his forehead showed his age. His eyes were worried. Worried about an estranged daughter, who missed him a lot more than she let on.

"Hi, Jake, I'm Dr. Foreman, we spoke on the phone?"

"Eric, glad to meet you, how is she?"

"She's still fine, but this will be good for her, shall we?"

________________________________________________________________________

One tear ran down out from the corner of her eye as her father kissed her forehead, saying I love you. It had been two years since she had let the damned tears escape from their prison. That night, two years ago, was not forgotten.

"I'm sorry, I've missed you,"

"I'm sorry too,"


	3. Love

**This is written in honor of the amazingly waited for kiss between the two MC of this fic in Joy to the World. Merry Christmas, and what a Christmas present that was too. That defiantly mean this is going somewhere, maybe I'll add the kiss in somewhere as a flashback. How about right here? That seriously gave my muse a kick starter. Soo much new incentive to keep it up. The PJ's that 13 wears were available through Victoria's Secret about two years ago Christmas time. I absolutely love them- ahh so warm, they feel good right now, help me feel consentrated and relaxed.**

**____________**

**Three**

"_We should really go down to the party,"_

"_Yeah,"_

_They walked toward each other. They both knew that neither was going down to that party. Their locked lips and entangled arms prevented that. _

_I'm happy, thought Thirteen as they kissed. Truly happy. It won't last, but for now, this is good enough for me. _

_They stood there for a while, just kissing, enlocked in a passionate embrace. _

As Remy jogged she thought of that kiss. Their first kiss. The one that nothing had come of, immediately at least. But something had come of it. Foreman, two years later, declaring his love for her. But putting it that way made it sound sappy. It had been more like him awkwardly telling a comatose friend that he loved her and wanted to marry her. After their first kiss, things slowed down, for obvious reasons. House was in no mood for other peoples' relationships and a working relationship wouldn't be smart, things like that never worked out, Cameron and Chase were proof enough of that. And then as her condition began to worsen, things had gotten closer between the two. He helped her, did what he could to make her better, tried hard to make the trials worth her while. Hoping the 'cure' would work. It had scared her at first, but now things made more sense; her life was beginning to pull together, beginning to finally make sense. Her life had direction, purpose and reason. That was what her life had needed all along.

She stopped, catching her breath. Remy leaned over and stretched, touching her toes and then extending her arms, fully, out behind her. She straightened back up and twisted her torso right and then left. She finished her cool down with the checking of her pulse, something that she did regularly. The running was a hobby picked up from the decrease in activity resulting from her disease, but too much exercise would kill her. Not only did she, no had she, had Huntington's it had been confirmed through an EKG that she had a semi-severe form of arrhythmia. She did not want to go into cardiac arrest anytime soon.

The sun had come out from behind a cloud and little sparkles of light were now splayed on everything around her, including her own face and body. She looked down a the engagement and wedding ring set that was situated on her ring finger. This was what gave her life order, the simple idea, which was so complex she had to make it simple, of being married. And the prospect of having her father call her every other day was a new one too. The constant interrogation she received from him about her health was never ending. Jake Hadley was now a firm fixation in her life. He wouldn't go away, insisting on coming to every gathering the new couple planned.

Thirteen leaned against the fence as she clocked her heart rate, checking for the echo that was the cause for her heart concern; she couldn't push it, her life depended on that. She let her finger linger on her neck. 102 and retreating, echo: slight. No cause for major concern.

A voice ripped her from the stream of thoughts that had been absorbing her attention since the wedding day.

"Remy?!"

Remy looked up startled at hearing such a familiar voice.

"Jolene!" Remy was pleasantly surprised. Jolene was an old friend, a lesbian ex-girlfriend. They had broken up mutually, and continued their lives as good friends. "How've you been?"

"Good, and how about you, Little Miss Married?" Jolene was staring thoughtfully at her sparkling ring. "Who is she and how come I wasn't invited?"

"Jolene, _he's _my _husband, _and you changed your number and address, how come you never called me?"

"I'm sorry, I always assumed, even though you're bi, but forgive me anyways. I lost your number, I'm really sorry,"

"So, dish the juicy details, what's his name, and is he sexy? Well of course he is but still, and when can I meet him?"

"It's our day off, how about dinner, if you don't have plans, we live about a block away,"

"Sure, our? What that supposed to mean, you guys coordinate your off days?" Jolene teased.

"We're co-workers,"

"Really? Wow. A sexy doctor for a husband, way better that a plain old sexy, but what's his name?"

Remy smiled shyly as she said the name. "Eric Foreman,"

She was really married.

__________________

Jolene had just left after a night of lots of drinking and a lot of catching up. She had gone home first to get changed, while Jolene did the same and asked her partner to come over as well, and get the preparations ready. Foreman usually cooked, it was just one of his things; killer omelets and the best lobster you ever had eaten.

Remy was glad the night was coming to a close. She was exhausted and her echo was more prominent. She was making the bed when Foreman came up.

"You're tired aren't you?"

She sighed. "Extremely, I'm about ready to die,"

"That joke wasn't humorous,"

"Sorry," she went over to him and wrapped her arms around him. It felt good just standing there in his warm and soothing embrace. Remy felt safe, safe from everything that was still foreboding in her life.

As she released him he placed a kiss on her forehead. Remy walked to her side of the room, and Foreman to his. She undressed, putting on a black cami and her flannel pajama bottoms that she had gotten two years prior around Christmas time. They had hot pink stars dotting their black fabric. She crawled into bed, hugging the covers up to her chin.

"I'm just not feeling well, kind of nauseous,"

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, but I still feel nauseous, which in part of because of the beer we had, I can hold my alcohol but tonight…I just don't feel well,"

"Well, you not feeling well is a major concern to me," he walked over to her, looking Remy over carefully.

"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine, it's just the alcohol, I must be stoned by now,"

"You're not acting like you're stoned. In fact you seem mostly sober,"

"Just get in bed, you've gotta be just as tired as I am," He complied readily, putting an arm around her and resting close to her.

"I love you," he murmured and they both were out.

____________________

Three weeks later the cause of her nausea had become apparent. Remy had yet to tell Foreman. She was pregnant with their child. Being a mother had always been a pursuit of hers but after she found out about her disease, she had dismissed any plans she had ever made about being a mother. Remy had always wanted a little girl that she could be the best mother ever for, and now that dream would come true. She only hoped, and dreamed. She, so far, had dared not believe, Remy just couldn't get it out of the back of her head. The chance that her child would have Huntington's, like her. Like her mother before her. If that was the case, she'd rather die.


	4. Sins

**A/N: Hi!!!!!!! I have a new beta, and her name is ang cataolan !!! she is amazing an thoroughly appreciated! – FYI – No Longer will updates be submitted based on my current obsession!!!!!(I feel hypocritical otherwise) This story, I'm sorry to say will be ending soon, maybe three more chapters, well about five more, left to go, if I do this right. I know some of you will be sad, but it was inevitable (if you know what I mean). I really truly am sorry. **

**Chapter 4**

**_________________________**

_Flashback – "Hey, you seem to be feeling better," he smiled at her, just a little smile, but a smile all the same. They're relationship was a quiet one, surprisingly. The little things were what they strived for as a couple. Him kissing her on the cheek before they separated to go to their respectable departments, holding hands, and yet acting enough like a married couple should. They spoke in earnest when they needed to, and all in all things worked out. Problems were solved as quickly as they presented themselves, but Huntington's was still a tender subject for Thirteen. _

_"I am, I suppose,"_

_"What'd ya mean 'suppose'?"_

_"Well, I have good news, but it worries me. I know that you'll just tell me that there isn't anything to worry about, but… I just…If it concerns my disease, I'll ultimately jump to conclusions anyway, and I don't want to fight about this, so let's leave Huntington's out of it,"_

_"Wow. That was quite a spiel. So what exactly are we talking about anyway? You haven't told me what I'm going to want to argue with you about, so obviously I can't fight yet,"_

_"I'm preparing you,"_

_"For…"_

_Remy sighed, smiling lightly. She took Eric Foreman's hand in her own, happy in her thoughts as she stroked the back of his hand. Gently as she spoke, she moved his hand toward her abdomen. "Eric," she started firmly, "We're going to have a baby,"_

_She looked up from his hand with her eyes, pressing his palm to her slightly bulging stomach. As she did so, a proud smile spread like firelight across his face. And Remy couldn't help but smile too, the moment being among some of the happiest of her life. _

____________________________________

Time had passed quickly for the expectant couple, Remy having given birth on the thirteenth of July (what a conikidink, huh?!) to a baby girl, whom they named Heather Jaimie Hadley-Foreman. The time in between had been spent preparing and eating, that mainly being done by Remy.

_Flashback – _

_"Eric? Are you still awake?"_

_"I am now. What?"_

_"I NEED corndogs and cherry pie,"_

_She heard Foreman roll over, and pick up the clock, tiredly dropping it back on the side table with a groan._

_"Remy, for Christ's sake, it's 3:10 A.M., I was on call yesterday till all hours and you decide to start craving, of all things and that combination, corndogs and cherry pie, in the middle of the night!"_

_"Please?"_

_Her only answer was the side lamp turning on, the grumbling of her sleepy, yet grudgingly obliging partner, and the cold air sneaking underneath the warm covers._

_Two hours later, in perfect fashion of the Hollywood movie pregnancy, he returned with a McDonald's Cherry pie and some frozen corndogs, that he had to 'cross town' to get because 'our grocery store didn't carry any', to his dismay. The whole while he wore a small disgruntled grin._

_Remy had gotten up, and kissing him thanks went to prepare her meal so he could sleep._

_______________

As she held Heather in her arms, Remy thought about how much she had matured during her pregnancy. She had always thought of herself as a mature enough person, but motherhood changed a woman, deeply. All she could think of was her child, her daughter, what was now her life. And one more tiny, yet nagging detail – Huntington's. Thirteen had gone and gotten married and pregnant, knowing that she was going to deteriorate and die… No it was gone, as far as the screens were concerned. Foreman had kept on it, telling her about the 99.9 percent of people with Huntington's being cured and never having to worry about the disease returning. But that wasn't good enough for Remy. She had always known that even if her disease was cured, it would haunt her for the rest of her life

"Hello, there Dr. How are you feeling?" the nurse, a colleague of Remy's had walked in, interrupting her thoughts. Better was the true answer, but what else could she say? What she really wanted right then was to sleep, long.

"I'll take it from here, Brenda," Foreman walked over to Remy's side, smiling, somewhat. "How's Heather ?"

"She's good, tired, like me, beautiful, amazing, lovely…" Remy trailed off, looking at what she had never wanted, for her child's sake, a life without a real mother. But maybe her daughter would get a real mother this time, if Huntington's was really gone. Remy could only hope.

The last thing that she wanted for Heather was to go through what she had gone through. Hating her mother, watching her die, deteriorate, succumb to dementia and loss of control. Pain had no other name for Thirteen than it had for watching someone you had loved from the moment you were born become the thing that you hated most in your life.

No child should have to go through such a screwed up life as she had, and Heather least of all deserved it, she was an innocent, with no control over her life and the little world that was her family, surrounding her. She had done nothing. The sins of the father…The sins of the mother… Not her fault…Nothing she could do…. Nothing she could have ever done…The cruelties of life were overbearing. Sorrow drew upon joy and light was conveyed into darkness. Tears were the only escape. Tears, and sleep; the comforting arms of those who care about you, love you to pieces. The calming voices of your husband, your father, the nurses, your colleagues. Tears, darkness. The only escape.

Thirteen succumbed to it all, she knew she wouldn't be able to keep it all in, she had to let it out, let it take her, just like her obsession with the disease had, and like she had always expected, would once again.

_Just Breath._

_Heather…_

_Eventually, it will all end._

____________________________

Friends and family had been her saving grace. But Heather she kept it going. Remy would do this forever if she had too. She had a daughter now, someone who needed her, someone that she couldn't let down, ever, no matter what. Eric and her father too. Somehow she would have to come out on top.

But the downward spiral would begin again, and nothing could stop it, no matter how hard she would try.

___________________

**A/N: It's a sad ending to what started out as a happy chapter, but when I was writing this I was listening to the song 'Reparations' from the Mission Impossible Three soundtrack, the music of when *****SPOILER!!!!!!!!!!***** his wife is giving him CPR to that he'll live…again. After he killed himself because if he didn't he'd die…yeahdeyah and all that. It's really sad music basically, till like the end when he's all alive and stuff again. But I liked the first part better and kept replaying it over and over and over and over….etc. you get the picture. I'm overly obsessive. **


	5. Hope and Remembering

**Well. Hullo. I lied. I still update based upon my level of obsession with the category in question. But, I had to update. I hope you aren't all mad at me. If you hate me by the end of this chapter, still, please. REVIEW! It's the only way to know if you're still reading. Thanks a lot for staying with this. Just a couple more chapters. Soon. I promise it'll end sorta good.**

**Nefertiri/ISW(yeah my pen name changed. Sorry)**

**__________________________**

**Recap**

_Friends and family had been her saving grace. But Heather she kept it going. Remy would do this forever if she had too. She had a daughter now, someone who needed her, someone that she couldn't let down, ever, no matter what. Eric and her father too. Somehow she would have to come out on top. _

_But the downward spiral would begin again, and nothing could stop it, no matter how hard she would try._

__________________________

She had tried. And that was all that mattered, truly. And she knew it, and so did he. It was going to be good from now till the end. She had long since begun loosing her mental control, and not long before that, her muscular control. She needed to just be happy now. And that meant coming out on top. But that was _so_ hard. She closed her eyes. Eric'd help her, and she had to make it longer for Heather. Her daughter…his daughter…their daughter. If anything, Remy "Thirteen" Hadley would do it for her daughter. She needed to prove it. Her mother couldn't do it for her, Remy'd do it for Heather.

And she smiled.

Remembering was easy. The memories that flooded her mind now were things that'd she'd never forget. The back and encasing, all encompassing darkness. The blood running down her leg. The sound of Eric's voice. The unseeing seeing experience is one Remy'd never forget. Being blind is not something many experience in their young to adult years. And most often, your lover boyfriend person wasn't the one who'd caused it. Remy hoped with all her heart that her daughter would always have twenty - twenty vision.

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Hope. It is a word that rings true in the hearts of the loved, lovers, despised, freedom fighters, the ill and dying, and the old. It something friends and family feel when a loved one is fighting.

Dread is another common feeling among this particular group of people. It comes after hope. It comes when there is no hope. Family and Friends, the ill and dying all feel this too. It comes when the patient is succumbing to the illness. More commonly, it comes when they succumb to their fears. Fear is the only thing to be afraid of. Fear will kill you. Hope can save your life.

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Foreman sighed. Things were rough around PPTH. Things with Remy. Things with Life. The Family, and their daughter, her dad's illness. House being an ass. But that was life. And sometimes it'd hit you hard, even knock you out cold. But so far they'd gotten through it all. They'd always made in somehow. But know he was worried. With the new baby there had been late nights, hard times breathing, loosing focus, sometimes even sight. But Remy had been getting better. She had to get better, for him, for Heather, for her father, for herself.

Life was an irrational. Life was unfair. Life with House had taught Eric Foreman that much even confirmed it, as if he didn't understand that already. Somedays, even though Remy was on Maternity leave, they had to get a nurse or sitter, or he'd stay home. That was from the Huntington's. On those days, when all her symptoms were displaying, she just slept. It was easier that way. House didn't (as far they knew) know how bad Remy was getting. Nor did any of the others. But they weren't keeping anything secret for long anyways.

Soon, Remy'd be off of Maternity leave. And that's when questions would start flooding in. Why was she always taking off? Was she getting worse? Was she okay on her own? Lot's of these questions, Foreman knew, wouldn't be voiced. Only two or three people would ask. House would ask, but not in a caring or concerned way. It'd be in House's usual ass way. That was House. Dr, Cuddy would ask. That was her job. But, of course she'd care, but she'd never offer pity, Cuddy knew Remy didn't want any of that. And then there'd be Cameron. Of all people, she would be the first Eric would expect to ask. She'd come and find him purposefully, just to ask him where and how Remy was, and she'd do it before anyone else. In the words of Dr, Cuddy, he thought, "_She really isn't as delightful as she thinks she is…"_

No one could have said it better. Though she was nice and sweet, Cameron was just too sweet. Way too nice, too. And she always found the pity card, no matter how far buried it was in the deck. If anything she was just highly annoying **(sorry to those who love Cameron, I ship Huddy, Cameron pisses me off, she's too nice, IDK if I warned about any Cam bashing, but here's your warning now. This is prolly the only part where this will happen)** But she was a colleague. And she probably felt responsible for everyone who was miserable. The same had happen with House, and that had gotten her no where.

But they'd try and out up with it. They had to; it was the only way that either of them were going to live with this. And I'd be hard, no doubt about that.

_________________________________________

The room was dark, and not unpleasantly cool. It was just the way that Jake Hadley liked it. For Thirteen, it was just a tad and the uncomfortable side. But, it was her dad. Jake Hadley had come down with a bad case of Pneumonia, along with the ever persistent Influenza A.

And know, instead of Jake taking care of his daughter, Remy was taking care of him. Good care, she was seeing to that to make sure. The combo wasn't life threatening really, but it still incapacitated him long enough for him to need help.

"Hon, you really don't need to be here," her father complained.

"Yes I do, and you know that too. It is a big enough deal for me to want to get involved,"

"Saving Grace is that I get to see my baby granddaughter every single day that I'm sick, that is after I'm no longer contagious,"

Remy'd only smile.

It wouldn't be such a big deal, bringing Heather over. She would be able to do so for a couple more years yet. Of that she was sure. She was also positive that someday, it would end.

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Foreman's Dream

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Four and a half years later, Remy was home for good, caring as best as she could for her beloved daughter. Eric was home too. Friends came over, few, but they still came. Heather would be five soon. So, so soon. She would wonder if she would see that birthday

About a month after, Remy was hospitalized… again. Agonizingly.

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End file.
